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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938642">Private Lessons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdisastrous/pseuds/darlingdisastrous'>darlingdisastrous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Cunnilingus, DFAB reader, Dubious Consent, F/M, Innocent Reader, Light Dom/sub, Mentor/Protégé, Older Man/Younger Woman, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, private lessons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:20:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdisastrous/pseuds/darlingdisastrous</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Private lessons are a privilege. Chrollo sees your potential and wants to help you grow.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Private Lessons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm on tumblr now! @darling-disastrous</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Private lessons were a privilege. It was unheard of to just walk up to an instructor and ask for one. You had to earn them. Prove your worth.</p><p>Ever since joining the Phantom Troupe, you made it your mission to work twice as hard as the others. The Troupe was the best-of-the-best—it was sheer luck they accepted you in the first place.</p><p>You had to fight tooth and nail to even be noticed. Most of your instructors ignored you. But <i>he</i> didn’t. <i>He</i> noticed you. <i>He</i> knew your worth.</p><p>Chrollo Lucilfer bent at the waist so he was eye-level with you. He appraised your flushed, trembling form with a tiny smile.</p><p>His fingers trailed up your naked spine. Instantly, you straightened up, straining to keep perfect form. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of your face. You bit down on your lower lip.</p><p>“You’re doing so well. Just five more minutes.”</p><p>His voice was soft and encouraging; the smile on his face almost made you forget that it had been ‘just five more minutes’ ten minutes ago.</p><p>Your legs had begun to shake. It was imperceivable at first—just the tiniest of trembles—but it was starting to grow stronger. If you weren’t strapped down, you’re certain you would’ve fallen over by now.</p><p>Every dancer had their thing: that one thing they were especially good at. For you, it was leaps. You could jump higher than anyone else in the Troupe. It came naturally to you, it was what you were known for.</p><p>With every strength came an even greater weakness. For some, it was turns. For you, it was flexibility. Dancing and flexibility went hand and hand, which is why it was all the more devastating for you.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer was generous enough to offer his help upon learning of your short comings.</p><p>Which lead to you being here, in the warmest studio in the building, strapped to a table, in a split, naked.</p><p>(”Clothes obstruct your view of your body in the mirrors,” explained Mr. Lucilfer. “You need to see your body clearly in order to know how to correct it.”)</p><p>It had been so awkward in the beginning. Mr. Lucilfer—of all people—seeing you naked? But he assured you there was nothing wrong with it, even citing different companies around the world who held their practices naked.</p><p>He didn’t seem affected by your nudity in the slightest, and went about business as usual. You figured if it wasn’t a big deal to him, then you shouldn’t treat it like one, either.</p><p>Pretty soon, it became routine. Come in for private lessons, strip out of your leotard, and do your warm ups.</p><p>Though, you had no explanation for the table, which might as well’ve been a torture device. Mr. Lucilfer said it was a common tool used in Russia to help their dancers perfect their splits. (”Only, their instructors leave them tied up all day. I couldn’t do that to you.”)</p><p>It wasn’t your first time on the table, but it was the first time you had gone this long on it. At the start of your private lessons, Mr. Lucilfer only subjected you to it for five minutes at a time. But, as the lessons went on, he gradually upped your time, until it took the entire hour-and-a-half allotted for your private lessons.</p><p>You’re sure that your lesson should’ve been up a while ago, but Mr. Lucilfer had yet to release you. Besides, it was Sunday, which meant the two of you were completely alone in the Troupe’s studio.</p><p>“Shhh...” Mr. Luclifer gently patted your thigh, which had gone from slight trembles to convulsions. “Just relax, you’re almost there. I’m so proud of you.”</p><p>You fought to control your muscles but it was useless. After being strapped down for so long in such an uncomfortable position, they had a mind of their own.</p><p>Tears pricked your eyes. “I-I don’t know if I can hold this much longer, sir.”</p><p>He reached up and cupped your chin, thumb smoothing across your lower lip. “I know it hurts. You’re doing such a good job.”</p><p>That gentle touch made you crumble. The dam broke, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. You turned away in a poor attempt to hide from him. You didn’t want him to see you cry.</p><p>“<i>Please</i>.”</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer’s hand gently guided your face back towards his. “You’re being so strong right now. It’s going to be painful right now, I know, but think of the end result? You’re already better than what you were.”</p><p>“<i>I can’t do this anymore. Please let me out</i>.”</p><p>Though it was difficult to see through your tears, you could’ve swore you saw him smile. He hummed—neither happy nor discontent, and said, “Okay.”</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer’s deft fingers unbound your legs swiftly. He wrapped an arm around your middle to help keep you upright. You were always incredibly weak after an extended period of time on the table.</p><p>“That was amazing,” he praised. He guided you to sit properly on the edge of the low table. “You set a new record for yourself. I’m thoroughly impressed.”</p><p>He passed you a towel and you wiped your face free of sweat and tears. “It’s all thanks to you.”</p><p>Despite your efforts, your light tone was broken up by your pained sobs. It didn’t escape Mr. Lucilfer’s notice. He tucked an errant strand behind your ear and smiled sympathetically.</p><p>“It’s going to keep getting easier, I promise. Pretty soon, you’ll be able to do an inverted split.”</p><p>This made you cringe.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer chuckled and walked away to retrieve your water bottle. When he returned, he unscrewed the cap and pressed it to your lips.</p><p>When you finished, he put it to the side. He regarded you carefully, his smile slipping away into something more pensive.</p><p>He laid his hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. “How are your legs? Can you stand, yet?”</p><p>You inhaled sharply. “I-I think I need, uh, a few more minutes.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>He took your thigh in both hands, working them in tandem as he squeezed and massages the tender muscle. A jolt of something ran through you. Your leg jerked involuntarily, eyes wide.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer looked up at you from under his eyelashes. “Have I never taught you how to properly work out your muscles after an intense stretch?”</p><p>“Uh—N-no, sir, I don’t think so.”</p><p>“Hm. What a rotten teacher I am.” He stopped abruptly and laid his hands on either side of you, caging you in. “Will you let me teach you?”</p><p>It might’ve been the exhaustion, but you swore his voice dropped a few octaves. You gaped, brain short-circuiting. Mr. Lucilfer was close. You could feel his breath fan across your cheeks, his body heat radiate into your sweat-slick skin.</p><p>Of course, given the circumstances, it seemed odd that this is what flusters you. Here is a man who has seen you naked more than any other person (aside from your mother) in your life! He touched you all the time, but you hadn’t given those touches much thought aside from those steamy dreams that plagued your mind every once in a while.</p><p>Some how, this was different. Before, Mr. Lucilfer seemed distant and unaffected by any of this. Teaching you was his job. Touching you—correcting your body—was something he did to everyone.</p><p>But now, there was a heat to his gaze. His eyes seemed darker, his over all demeanor had shifted into something ... something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer quirked an eyebrow. Your stomach lerched. Shit, he asked you something.</p><p>Quickly, you nodded. “Yeah—okay.”</p><p>His eyes studied your face. He tilted his head. “Okay.”</p><p>He took hold of your left leg, pulling it towards him, and massaged. He started low, at the point just above your ankle and started his ministrations anew.</p><p>His touch was firm, instantly, kneading your over-sensitive muscles with experience. You jerked involuntarily but Mr. Lucilfer held you fast. Slowly, he worked his way up your leg, his eyes trained solely on you.</p><p>The two of you didn’t speak for a long time. The only sounds were the little noises you’d make when he worked on a particularly tender area.</p><p>“Where does it hurt the most?” he asked.</p><p>You manage to tell him you’re hamstrings in an unfortunately breathy tone.</p><p>He bypassed your knee and slotted himself between your thighs. He worked the sensitive area with his thumbs, digging in deep.</p><p>You clamped your jaw shut, breathing heavily through your nose. God, it hurt. You would have to ice it when you got home.</p><p>In fact, you were so caught up in the pain that you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to your core. It wasn’t until he accidentally brushed his knuckles across your sensitive nub, which made you jump, that you realized how scandalous this looked.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer noticed. His fingers stalled. It was like he was caught between pulling away completely or continuing as if nothing happened. He must’ve decided to keep going, because he resumed his ministrations not a second later.</p><p>“What about your groin?”</p><p>“My groin?”</p><p>His voice was so soft, you could barely hear him over the blood rushing through your ears.</p><p>“How does it feel?” He ghosted one of his hands along the underside of your thigh until he reached the junction where your leg met hip. “I remember you saying you pulled it a week ago.”</p><p>Words lost all meaning. You’re sure you tried to say something, but all that came out was a strangled grunt. He was too close. You should say something, say anything!</p><p>But you couldn’t speak. It was like you were trapped inside your own body, a spirit observing everything from above. He was your teacher, not to mention a decade older than you (at least). This was crossing the line.</p><p>A small part of you protested that you actually liked it. This came from the troublesome part of your brain that fantasized about Chrollo Lucilfer late at night. You thought about him taking advantage of you during these private lessons, touching you, making you cry from something other than pain.</p><p>He was undeniably the most handsome man in the Troupe, which made it all the more devastating that he was an instructor.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer’s lithe fingers danced along your groin. He wasn’t even massaging anymore, just softly squeezing your supple flesh.</p><p>“S-Sir—”</p><p>“Hush,” he ordered. “Let your teacher help you.”</p><p>He dropped onto one knee, forcing you to widen them. He worked his fingers against your groin, his touch somewhere between firm and tender. It felt good. Your eyes fell shut.</p><p>God, you hoped this would end soon. Not because you hated it but because you liked it too much.</p><p>Something warm and wet ran touched your flesh. Then, sharp pain.</p><p>Your eyes flew open with a gasp. “Sir!”</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer had bitten you.</p><p>He pulled back, but the indention of his teeth stayed. He stared at it, then pecked the mark. Involuntarily, you moaned. Fuck, it was too much. All rationality flew from your brain. </p><p>“Tell me something, sweetheart: do you deliberately do this, or is it in your nature to be the biggest tease in the world?”</p><p>He didn’t wait for an answer before he attached himself to your pussy. His tongue worked against you at a maddeningly slow pace, taking its time to map out every inch of your core.</p><p>“Chrollo!” You slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle a moan, eyes fluttering shut.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer pulled away and smacked your inner thigh. You yelped, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. He glared sternly, making all protests die.</p><p>“That was for being disrespectful. We’re still in class. I expect you to address me properly.”</p><p>Liquid heat filled your abdomen. You nodded mutely.</p><p>However, Mr. Lucilfer was not satisfied. He delivered another, harsh slap to your inner thigh. “I don’t understand head shakes. I need words. Do you understand?”</p><p>“Yes! Yes, sir.”</p><p>He eyed you a moment longer before attaching himself to your clit. He sucked on it, hard and your legs quivered.</p><p>He removed himself with a pop, his fingers replacing his mouth. He slipped one inside you, probing your pulpy walls curiously while his thumb worked your sensitive nub.</p><p>“There you go, sweetheart. Relax.” He rested his head against your thigh, licking his lips as he gazed up at you. “So blissed out—take a look at yourself in the mirror. You’re face is so red.”</p><p>You risk a glance at the mirrors plastered on the wall across from you. Your face is red—a combination from the heat of the room and his ministrations.</p><p>The scene is so debauched; your legs draped over Mr. Lucilfer’s back, bare chest arched outwards. You bit your tongue, stifling an embarrassingly loud groan.</p><p>“You got awful tight,” he teased. “Have you thought about this before? Fucking your instructor in the middle of a lesson? Having him play with your cunt until you’re dumb with pleasure?”</p><p>Your mouth went dry. Your walls flutter around his finger, in an attempt to draw him in deeper.</p><p>“... Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Oh?” he chuckled. “Is that so?”</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer curled his finger just right, pressing against that spot inside of you that makes you cry out. The wave of pleasure that rocks you makes your body weak and you would’ve fallen had it not been for him holding you up.</p><p>He drinks in your reaction with heady eyes, and bends down to suck on your clit. He made a point to abuse your pleasure spot until you’re shaking. You’re so close—fuck, just a little more.</p><p>“I can’t tease you too much—I’m guilty of imagining it, as well.”</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer rested his cheek on your inner thigh. He withdraws his finger just as you’re about to cum, leaving you high and dry. You cry out but it falls on deaf ears.</p><p>“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined this moment. How many times I’ve imagined tasting you—fucking you.” He wraps his tongue around his slick-coated finger and moans. “You’ve made it difficult to keep my composure. There have been so many days where I nearly cracked.”</p><p>He turned his head and lavished his attention on your neglected thigh, nipping, kissing, and sucking marks onto the flesh. You squirmed under his attention. He seemed to touch everywhere except where you needed him most.</p><p>Didn’t he know how close you were? How cruel! </p><p>The tension in your gut slowly relaxed, but the burn of your arousal was too much to handle. You needed him badly. You tried to move closer, but Mr. Lucilfer’s arm might as well have been an iron band. He held you in place, shooting you a look that warned you to <i>be good or else</i>.</p><p>When you stopped squirming his mood lightened. “I thought about it today, too. How easy it would be to slip my fingers inside of you while you were strapped down. I’m sure that would have distracted you from the pain, getting finger fucked by your teacher. And you would’ve accepted it because you’re so obedient. Wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”</p><p>“I would’ve,” you cry. “I’d let you! <i>Fuck</i>, please let me cum!”</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer groaned, trapping his lower lip between his teeth. “Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me.” He kissed your leg sensually. A faint blush colored his cheeks. “Think of this like a reward because you were so good today.”</p><p>He reattached himself to your pussy. You tossed your head back, calling out for him.</p><p>He devoured you with earnest, nothing like his slow strokes before. You were food and he was the starving man. The wet sound of your arousal filled the empty studio, amplified by Mr. Lucilfer’s frenzied tongue.</p><p>At some point, his fingers re-introduced themselves. Two, this time. Pumping, scissoring, stretching your walls. They felt you up from the inside, mapping every square inch of your pulpy walls until they found that pleasure spot again.</p><p>You were a shaky, drooling mess in no time. You reached out and grabbed ahold of Mr. Lucilfer’s hair, rocking your hips against his face fervently. He pressed you closer in response.</p><p>Your stomach contracted and you came with an unintelligible shout. White filled your vision. You dropped back against the table, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer rose to his feet and towered over you. He pet the side of your face, smiling down at you fondly. You became aware of something hard poking your leg.</p><p>You reached out for him, but he stepped away. You frowned, “But, you’re...”</p><p>“I can take care of myself,” he assured you. “You’re spent as it is. I’d rather take my time fucking you when you’re not already sore.”</p><p>You flushed. So this wasn’t a one time thing.</p><p>“Besides, delayed gratification makes the reward sweeter.” He shot you a wink, making a show of licking his arousal coated lips.</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer helped you to your feet. Surprisingly, you weren’t as achy as you thought you’d be. Wobbly, yes, but the soreness that usually accompanied your muscles after being on the table wasn’t present.</p><p>“Orgasms are wonderful for relaxing muscles,” Mr. Lucilfer said, as if reading your thoughts.</p><p>“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”</p><p>He rolled his eyes but laughed all the same. Once you were dressed and had all your belongings in order, he walked you to the studio door.</p><p>“Well ... thanks for the lesson, I guess.”</p><p>He grinned, “You’re more than welcome. I’ll see you next week. Same time?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Mr. Lucilfer stepped closer. He touched your chin, guiding your face upwards, and bent down to lay a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth.</p><p>He ghosted his lips over the shell of your ear. Quietly, he added, “Maybe we’ll go over some more ... muscle relaxing techniques.”</p>
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